The idea of 'third place ' was originated by Ray Oldenburg as something that exists between home and work. No, I haven't read his book, but I caught the reference in an article in the New York Times Magazine regarding of all things, the unlikely nexus of Starbucks and openly-gun-toting coffee drinkers. It was one of those articles that you choose to read and then walk away with new insight often completely unrelated to the story itself. In this case, I was struck by the idea of third place, specifically as it relates to my school library.
What if we began thinking about our library spaces as third places? The notion of the learning commons isn't anything new, but frankly, the name has all the punch of weak red Kool-Aid. Without getting into a big fracas over what to call school libraries (we'll save that for another day), I began thinking about what makes Starbucks and Barnes and Noble such attractive places to perch? And then I got to thinking about library spaces and what happens in them.
My library is a popular place. Before school, I have a pack of bleary-eyed adolescents waiting for me to unlock the door at 7AM. And if I'm even a few minutes late, the stink eyes I get from those cooling their heels are enough to motivate me to get out of bed earlier. So I'm not faced with a desolate wasteland, but a sort of third place in the lives of my high school clients. Which got me to further thinking about what makes the space attractive and how I can build on that success in the future.
According to the Wikipedia article (yes, I'm quoting a Wikipedia article), "third places...are "anchors" of community life and facilitate and foster broader, more creative interaction. All societies already have informal meeting places; what is new in modern times is the intentionality of seeking them out as vital to current societal needs." Hmmm, sounds like a pretty good raison d'etre for a library. That's not to say that all school libraries are meeting this benchmark. Based on this definition, there are two key indicators of third place. First, are your patrons seeking out your space? And second, is your space, program and collection vital to their current needs?
School libraries have always been a wonky oasis of safety and intellectualism in the high school. As a result, the meek, the weary and the Tolkien reader found in libraries something of a haven, even back in my days as a high school student. Some libraries featured the lone computers and/or labs where future Microsoft executives began their careers on Apple IIe and Commodore workstations. The school library has maintained its dork squad bona fides even into the current day.
But alongside the neo-geeks, there are also preening young girls reading Self magazines, hulking football players hastily finding a current event article for class, not to mention any number of kids eating, playing computer games and/or engaging in occasionally raucous social interactions. Yes, you heard that right--eating, playing and interacting. In my library. Technically, their library.
For years, I've engaged in a Jekyll and Hyde back and forth over order and disorder in my library. In recent years, I've eased up on what have always been rather arbitrary rules regarding food, drink, games and other hijinks among the stacks. I believe that among other factors, this has contributed to the exponentially-greater popularity of my space. Oldenburg posited several hallmarks that define third places--"spaces that are free or inexpensive, food and drink, while not essential, are important; highly accessible: proximate for many (walking distance); involve regulars – those who habitually congregate there; welcoming and comfortable; both new friends and old should be found there." Check. Thankfully, that describes my space to a T.
So what's the takeaway? As we think of our spaces, we should look to Starbucks rather than some classical notions of library-as-reliquary. That doesn't mean we have to install an espresso machine, but it does mean that we might tolerate the odd discarded Cheetos wrapper in exchange for a place that kids seek out, rather than walk past in their busy lives.
The idea of 'third place ' was originated by Ray Oldenburg as something that exists between home and work. No, I haven't read his book, but I caught the reference in an article in the New York Times Magazine regarding of all things, the unlikely nexus of Starbucks and openly-gun-toting coffee drinkers. It was one of those articles that you choose to read and then walk away with new insight often completely unrelated to the story itself. In this case, I was struck by the idea of third place, specifically as it relates to my school library.
What if we began thinking about our library spaces as third places? The notion of the learning commons isn't anything new, but frankly, the name has all the punch of weak red Kool-Aid. Without getting into a big fracas over what to call school libraries (we'll save that for another day), I began thinking about what makes Starbucks and Barnes and Noble such attractive places to perch? And then I got to thinking about library spaces and what happens in them.
My library is a popular place. Before school, I have a pack of bleary-eyed adolescents waiting for me to unlock the door at 7AM. And if I'm even a few minutes late, the stink eyes I get from those cooling their heels are enough to motivate me to get out of bed earlier. So I'm not faced with a desolate wasteland, but a sort of third place in the lives of my high school clients. Which got me to further thinking about what makes the space attractive and how I can build on that success in the future.
According to the Wikipedia article (yes, I'm quoting a Wikipedia article), "third places...are "anchors" of community life and facilitate and foster broader, more creative interaction. All societies already have informal meeting places; what is new in modern times is the intentionality of seeking them out as vital to current societal needs." Hmmm, sounds like a pretty good raison d'etre for a library. That's not to say that all school libraries are meeting this benchmark. Based on this definition, there are two key indicators of third place. First, are your patrons seeking out your space? And second, is your space, program and collection vital to their current needs?
School libraries have always been a wonky oasis of safety and intellectualism in the high school. As a result, the meek, the weary and the Tolkien reader found in libraries something of a haven, even back in my days as a high school student. Some libraries featured the lone computers and/or labs where future Microsoft executives began their careers on Apple IIe and Commodore workstations. The school library has maintained its dork squad bona fides even into the current day.
But alongside the neo-geeks, there are also preening young girls reading Self magazines, hulking football players hastily finding a current event article for class, not to mention any number of kids eating, playing computer games and/or engaging in occasionally raucous social interactions. Yes, you heard that right--eating, playing and interacting. In my library. Technically, their library.
For years, I've engaged in a Jekyll and Hyde back and forth over order and disorder in my library. In recent years, I've eased up on what have always been rather arbitrary rules regarding food, drink, games and other hijinks among the stacks. I believe that among other factors, this has contributed to the exponentially-greater popularity of my space. Oldenburg posited several hallmarks that define third places--"spaces that are free or inexpensive, food and drink, while not essential, are important; highly accessible: proximate for many (walking distance); involve regulars – those who habitually congregate there; welcoming and comfortable; both new friends and old should be found there." Check. Thankfully, that describes my space to a T.
So what's the takeaway? As we think of our spaces, we should look to Starbucks rather than some classical notions of library-as-reliquary. That doesn't mean we have to install an espresso machine, but it does mean that we might tolerate the odd discarded Cheetos wrapper in exchange for a place that kids seek out, rather than walk past in their busy lives.